


Sometimes You Need to Get Away

by notenoughtogivebread



Series: Klaine Advent 2015 [13]
Category: Glee
Genre: Daddies!Klaine, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:05:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7057363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenoughtogivebread/pseuds/notenoughtogivebread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for Klaine Advent 2015 prompt: Ocean. Married Daddies Klaine; set about 3 years after the baby is born; sometimes you just have to get out of the city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes You Need to Get Away

Neither of them had spent much time on the seaside when they were kids. Burt was more apt to take Kurt and Elizabeth to a lakefront cabin in Western Ohio when he wanted to get away from the noise and dirt of the shop. The Andersons spent their summer vacations either in Chicago or up at Tom’s family’s house on Mackinac Island. 

But becoming New Yorkers had changed all that. The summer days with Dani at Coney Island when Blaine first came to the city, their honeymoon in Provincetown, and some crazy fun weekends with Elliott and a cast of (it seemed like) hundreds at Fire Island sealed it. Kurt still had his favorite inn in Vermont, and Blaine loved the rustic cabins they’d found in the Adirondacks, but whenever they really needed to connect, they headed to the ocean. It became a game—anywhere from Maine to Maryland, as long as there was a beach and some decent food and a good chance of bed bug-free accommodations—they’d try it out. 

And sometimes that need was more urgent than others. The summer Mary Grace turned 3 was such a time. She had started preschool that year, and maybe they had gotten used to having their mornings free again. That might be one explanation for the tensions. Maybe it was that both of them were working on projects at home that might become something, and were feeling pressured anyway. Or maybe it was just hot in the city that summer. 

They still lived in the little apartment they had first found in the early days of their marriage. They could have gotten a bigger place, but this one was THEIRS. They’d adapted it as their little girl grew—and as her belongings took up a larger share of space. And it had worked, mostly. But, Kurt realized as the sound of Blaine and MG bickering broke into his bathroom refuge, it had done so because all three of them were rarely all together in the small space with anything more pressing than what was for dinner hanging over their heads. 

Kurt had thought they could make it through until Saturday, when they’d begin two weeks at the beach—this time down in Ocean City, NJ. They’d rented a big, rambling house with room for their parents and friends, including kids for Mary Grace. And most importantly, a private bedroom on the third floor as big as their whole apartment, with its own deck overlooking the beach. They could still get work done if they needed to, but he hoped they wouldn’t need to. 

But that was before the muse had descended onto Blaine with the force of a thousand hurricanes. He had sat up all night in bed, humming and scribbling, and had woken early, his head still on fire with words and music, to find that his baby had woken before him and had commandeered the keyboard into a Dream House for her Groovy Girls. And she wasn’t taking kindly to the suggestion of a move. 

Her initial shriek had woken Kurt up. He’d pulled off his sleep mask and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, hoping that Blaine would reason her out of the impending tantrum. But lack of sleep and the pressure of creation made Blaine snappish. Kurt had started down the hall, heard Blaine say, “Well, Naomi can just BE homeless then,” and chickened out to take refuge in their tiny bathroom. 

He sat on the closed toilet lid, struggling to wake up and to rescue his morning. His housemates had to be getting along before he had his phone meeting with his agent and a casting director later this morning. And the three of them might not survive until Saturday if he didn’t act quickly. So he pulled out his phone. 

First he looked up midweek vacancies in Cape May; Blaine and he had spent their last anniversary (the kissing one, not the marrying one) there this spring, and he hoped the town would be just as much a romantic respite in the summer. Then, listings at hand, he sent a babysitting SOS text to all their friends still in the city on this hot July day. He poked his head out the door and heard more roaring from Gracie as his phone pinged with a reply. He could have danced at Rachel’s enthusiastic Yes! In minutes, he’d gotten her to agree to a 2-day sleepover with Mary Grace and an offer to have Jesse drive them to Jersey Saturday afternoon. 

He sent her a kiss and a promise to make it up to her, then finally opened the bathroom door. He crept down the hall to the kitchen. As soon as he came into her sight, Mary Grace threw herself at his knees, one of the dolls in her hand. “Daddy! Papa’s being MEAN to me! He hurted Hannah. He did!” 

“I think you’re being mean to me, young lady! You hurted my music,” Blaine grumbled from his knees, where he was picking up his scattered papers, his sleep-tousled curls hanging into his eyes. 

Kurt lifted his little girl up, wiping away her tears, and then leaned over the half-wall to look down at Blaine. “Ooh, Mary Grace. What do I see here?" Kurt asked. ”Poor Papa. Did a tornado come through the living room while we slept?” 

“He said they be HOMELESS!” she proclaimed, her dark eyes flashing and her lower lip jutting truculently. 

“Who did? The tornado?” 

Blaine sat back down on his heels and, with an abashed smile, said, “No. Just her sleep-deprived Papa.” 

Kurt grinned back, then turned to his daughter. “What do you think? Should we help Papa clean up his important papers before we all have breakfast?” 

“Cannyloupe?” At his nod, she said okay and started to wriggle down. 

“And maybe say Sorry too?” 

She pouted at that, but set about gathering papers into her chubby little hands. “Here, Papa.” 

“Thanks, pumpkin. Sorry I was so cross,” Blaine said as he put the papers in order. 

“I sorry too. But the girls not homeless.” 

Kurt looked up from setting the table. “Papa knows they’re not. They live here with us. But I thought their house was under your bed.” 

She sniffed and looked up at her dads scornfully. “They on VACAtion.” 

Kurt scooped her up and plopped her into her booster seat. “Well, maybe just for today, they could be—on their way to the shore. And then before bed tonight, we can decorate their shore house after we finish packing your bags.” 

Blaine paused in the act of pulling out his own chair. “But—" and then stopped when he saw Kurt’s beaming face. “You look like a man with a plan.” 

“I AM a man with a plan,” he replied as he dished out the yogurt and fruit. “Gracie, you know who I was just talking to? Auntie Rachel. She says she can’t wait until Saturday to see you. She wants to have a sleepover with you for a few days at her house.” 

“In the big princess bed?” 

“Yes. In the big bed at her house. And then Uncle Jesse says he will bring you down to the beach house.” 

“With Gramps and Meemaw?” 

“AND Grandfather and Lola.” 

“And whatever will we do while our girl is away?” Blaine asked. 

Kurt was practically bouncing in his seat. He reached out to cover his husband’s hand. “Cape May. Tomorrow night.” 

“But the score.” 

“You have today and all day tomorrow—Rachel says she’s coming at like 10—and you know the cottage in Ocean City has a piano.” 

“And your script meetings?” 

“I’ll figure something out. We just ALL need a break—it’s so hot in this apartment, and I don’t want to wait anymore.” 

Blaine sat back, his arms across his chest and his slyest smile playing on his lips. “You’re prepping for your role. You think you’ve got it.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Blaine looked down into his bowl of yogurt, then looked up through his lashes. “So there will be no attempt to recreate the beach scene from _From Here to Eternity?”_

“Are you volunteering for the Deborah Kerr role?” 

“Always.” 

“You know if I get the play, I’ll probably be Prewitt, not Warden.” 

“As if that matters. You know it’s gonna be perfect weather for a midnight swim: the forecast is for clear skies and a bright moon.” 

“Twist my arm. Yes, we’ll recreate the beach scene. I suppose that means you’re saying yes to my proposal?” 

Blaine’s yes was the best kind, said against Kurt’s mouth as Blaine leaned over their breakfast table and Mary Grace screamed in delight. When he sat back, it was with that look—the mixture of affection and gratitude that was just _Blaine_ to Kurt. 

As he got their little girl ready for her day, Kurt thought that maybe he should set up an office in that bathroom, because it seemed to him that his best ideas were dreamed up in there. He got dressed himself, took Mary Grace’s hand, and set out to buy his husband the skimpiest bathing suit he could find. Their trip to the ocean couldn’t happen soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has a companion piece, Feel My Love, written for the Klaine Valentine 2016 challenge but not posted as part of the challenge, because work. That takes place in Cape May later this week.


End file.
